


Flustered

by afteriwake



Series: I Can Explain... [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anderson Was Right, Banter, Big Brother Mycroft, Cute Molly, Cute Sherlock, Domestic Fluff, Embarrassed Molly, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Half Naked Molly, Half Naked Sherlock, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Out in the open, Poor Molly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:59:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock spends the entire night at Molly’s flat for the first time and tries to persuade her to take a sick day to celebrate the occasion. Despite his best attempts she decides to go to work and leaves her bedroom half dressed, only to find she has unexpected company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flustered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IdrisSmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdrisSmith/gifts).



> Posting this early for Day 7 of Sherlolly Appreciation Week on Tumblr, the Free Choice day, since I will have very little internet access that day. The series is almost done! Just one more story! This time it's an answer to a prompt from the series giftee, **IdrisSmith** , that asks for " _Molly in nothing but Sherlock’s shirt when he came for a visit_." Enjoy!

Sherlock never stayed the entire night when he stayed at her flat. In all the time they had been together, he was always gone before the sun came up. So she was quite surprised to find that the sun was shining on her face and there was an arm around her waist and Sherlock was keeping her close against him. She smiled at that. This was a concrete sign that there was going to be a definite change in their relationship from this point on, or at least in the matter of how public it was.

Good.

She snuggled against him for a moment before she stretched, only to have him tighten his hold on her. “I have to get up, Sherlock,” she said.

“Why?” he said, nuzzling her neck with his nose.

“Because I have a full day at Barts and as much as I know you’d love for me to say fuck it all and stay in bed and shag until I can’t walk straight, there’s samples to run and autopsies to perform and I have a research paper to write. I can’t put it all off for another day.” She moved her head when he pressed his lips against her neck. “Sherlock…”

“We don’t normally spend days in bed,” he murmured against her skin as his hand moved along her waist. “Make an exception, Molly.”

“Sherlock, I swear, you are a bad influence,” she said, pulling away from him with great reluctance. Truthfully, she really didn’t want to get out of bed. She wanted to stay in bed and kiss him and caress him and shag him and please him but she just couldn’t put off all her work, she just couldn’t. She got out of the bed and then went to her dresser, opening the drawer with her undergarments and pulling out a bra and a matching pair of knickers.

“Any chance I could at least influence your choice in lingerie?” he asked, sitting up in her bed slightly.

She turned to look at him with a slight smirk. “Are you going to want me to wear a black lace G-string and a skimpy bra with tassels on my nipples?”

He shook his head. “I was thinking the black Fifi Chachnil set you bought that you haven’t put to use yet.”

She shook her head. “Are you actually snooping in my lingerie drawer?”

“No, it was more I saw the purchase when you made it. I thought it might be nice to see it modeled,” he said.

“But if I model it, you’ll try and convince me to stay,” she countered.

“I’ll only try and convince you to stay if you put on the red and black set from the same company, the one with the garters,” he said. “I swear.”

She chuckled and then pulled out the set he had requested, a black set with floral lace and frilly edging and white bows. She seductively slipped on the knickers and then put on the bra, keeping an eye on Sherlock’s face as he watched her intently. Oh, the look on his face was _almost_ enough to make her say to hell with it all and have him take the lingerie right back off. But no, the responsible woman in her was going to head into work today. She reached over for the first shirt she could, Sherlock’s button down shirt, and put it on. She didn’t even bother to button it up before leaning over to kiss him. He reached up and snuck his hand around to the back of her head, keeping her close to keep the kiss deep. “I’ll go make us some coffee before I start getting breakfast ready,” she said when she pulled away.

“All right,” he replied.

She moved away from the bed and then opened the door to her bedroom and headed out to her kitchen. It wasn’t until she was in the kitchen that she realized it wasn’t just her and Sherlock in the apartment. She nearly dropped the coffeepot when Mycroft cleared his throat. “Bloody hell!” she said.

When she turned, she felt her cheeks turn red. She probably could have handled it if it was just Mycroft in the room; after all, by now, after the phone call the evening before she would have assumed Mycroft knew she was dating his brother, and if he was at her flat she would assume Mycroft knew she was shagging his brother, so seeing her walking out in nothing but a bra and knickers set and Sherlock’s shirt should be expected. But it _wasn’t_ just Mycroft in the sitting room, oh no.

 _Anderson_ was there, getting quite the eyeful as well.

“Molly,” Anderson said, his eyes wide.

“Philip,” she said, her voice tight as she set the coffee pot down and tried to tug Sherlock’s shirt down. Damn Sherlock for favouring tight shirts. It fit her quite well, and therefore left quite a bit of her exposed. “Could you please avert your eyes?” Philip nodded his head vehemently and then turned his head, trying to find something interesting to look at. Then she turned to look at Mycroft. “Why are you here?”

“I need to speak to my brother. He wasn’t at his flat, which was unusual, so I deduced he was either here or at the Watson’s home. I thought I would try here.”

“Couldn’t Philip have stayed in the car?” she asked, her voice almost a hiss.

“I asked him to come along,” Mycroft said with a slight shrug. “Neither of us were expecting your state of…undress.”

Her eyes widened. “Did you not know your brother and I were…?”

He shook his head. “For once, my brother actually managed to keep something a secret from me, miraculous as that may seem. I merely thought he was using your home as a bolt hole. He has been acting strangely these last few months so I had thought I might need to have him tested for drugs. Hence Philip’s presence. If you were complicit in Sherlock’s relapse, you could not be trusted.”

“Oh God,” Molly said, hanging her head. “No. Your brother is clean and sober, I swear. Had been for a long while. He and I are—”

“Dating. And were shagging like rabbits last night. And I decided I wanted to stay over instead of slinking back home like I usually do because I’m done with hiding it,” Sherlock said from the hallway. Molly turned and saw he’d pulled a quilt from the chest at the foot of her bed and wrapped it around his midsection. He moved closer to her. “You can test me for drugs, I don’t care, but I’m clean and sober. I’ve just been acting strangely because I’ve been sneaking around, trying to keep my relationship with Molly private and failing miserably. Something I’m going to stop doing, in point of fact.”

Mycroft looked from one of them to the other. “I see,” he murmured. He nodded then. “Very well. We’ll be off. Phillip, back to the car.”

“Right,” Philip said, giving the two of them a grin before turning around and heading toward Molly’s door with Mycroft following him. Molly and Sherlock watched as they left before lapsing into silence.

“You do realize you just made Philip’s life right now, don’t you?” Molly said.

“Oh?” Sherlock asked.

Molly nodded. “He had his own personal head canon that when you faked your death after Moriarty shot himself on the roof you snogged me.”

“He did, did he?” Sherlock asked, moving behind her and pressing a kiss to her neck above the collar of his shirt.

She shut her eyes and tilted her head. “Mmhmm. He reckoned you gave me the best snog of my life.”

“He has an overactive imagination,” he said.

“Oh yes,” she said. “It wasn’t until _much_ later when you did that.”

“I suppose I just need to keep working on that then,” he replied, adding his teeth.

She pulled away slightly and turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing against him. “You can start today, then,” she said before kissing him deeply. Sod it all, she was going to play hooky today. It wasn’t every day her boyfriend more or less declared that he was going to declare his relationship with her to the world. She should reward him for that, at the very least.


End file.
